


Oh Captain, My Captain

by Athos of Trevilles boudoir (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Updating Tags as Story Goes On
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Athos%20of%20Trevilles%20boudoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flames, smoke, cracking wood... A fire at the garrison spirals everything out of control, taking out men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EnjolrasAmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnjolrasAmy/gifts).



> _I showed my friend this and I was instructed to post it. I did start this just when my fan fiction muses popped up for **The Musketeers** so I do apologise for the rushedness of the chapters._

Athos had never felt more helpless when he was woken from slumber from Madame Bonacieux's house shaking and people yelling. He had never felt this helpless when kidnapped from his bed that one time by the vigilantes who hated the Musketeers. He’d never felt more helpless than when he heard people yelling that it was the garrison that had been exploded. He’d never felt more helpless then when he had finally got there, pushing through the crowded streets, making sure that young children weren’t falling over and getting hurt, then when he got to the garrison and saw Aramis and Porthos staring up at their Captain’s quarters with shock and fear on their faces.   
  
He’d never felt more help _ful_ than when he forced his way through the blaze and up the stairs. Vomit almost forced its way up his throat when he heard the pitiful and weak cries from Treville. He pushed his way through the flames and found him, pinned in his bed by a falling beam – a beam that was close to catching fire itself. Athos took no time in pulling it off as much as he could, just enough for him to pull Treville from the bed and throw the Captain’s arm around his shoulders. He pulled him out just before the whole damn bed caught fire.  
  
Once out on the balcony, there was a large cracking sound and Athos pulled both of the men to the floor as the sound of fire roared in his ears. He looked up to see the missing staircase and his heart sunk. Was this to be the fate of him _and_ his Captain? The Captain and Lieutenant taken out in the same night? All of a sudden, he could hear Aramis and Porthos yelling _throw and jump throw and jump Athos throw and jump_. Whether it was his comrades or his own mind telling him how to get out of this, he had no clue but he stood, pinpointed where Aramis and Porthos were standing before standing back from the Captain.  
“Do forgive me, Sir.”  
With a jolt, Treville went plummeting to the ground only to be caught by the Musketeers below.   
  
The fire behind Athos was, by now, getting much worse – he could feel the heat rolling off of it, licking at his back. Aramis was there, yelling that he would be caught and Athos trusted him. He had always trusted Aramis with his life, and now here was the first – and if he failed, last chance – he got to test how well he had entrusted him. He threw himself from the balcony, landing awkwardly on his ankle, but being half caught by his friend. He grunted in pain each time his left foot touched the ground but he still ran, aiming to get as far away from the flames as he could.  
  
Once they were to safety, Athos pushed off anyone who tried to help him. He was going through the wounded, yelling for Porthos or for Treville to answer him. The echo of no reply was loud in his ears, drowning out the yells of those helping the wounded and those of the civilians trying to help put the flames out. Then, he spotted his friend, running as fast as his ankle would allow, only to cling to him and almost collapse in pain against him. Strong arms wrapped around his waist to help support him as he straightened himself up.  
“Treville? Where is the Captain?”  
The silence from his brother was deafening.


	2. Chapter 2

Athos was sat by the bed, watching Treville as his chest rose weakly. He had barely survived. The physician said, had Athos taken any more time, and there would have been little that he could have done for the Captain. Athos blamed himself for it, naturally, he would. He should have been quicker in getting dressed, quicker getting to the garrison and quicker to get Treville out of there. People had asked Athos why he had risked his life to save his Captain and he had merely replied that he was Lieutenant. It was his job to protect him; but there was something else – something that Athos wasn’t sure what it was. Something else had provoked him to run up the stairs that night. Had told him how to get them both out of there and Athos wasn’t sure what to make of it. And so he stayed silent.   
  
“You should get some sleep, my friend.”  
Athos looked up, watching Aramis walk into the room and he shrugged.  
“It is my duty to make sure that our Captain will stay well. After all, I was very nearly the death of him.”  
“And you were his saviour. You saved his life, Athos. Now rest. If something happens, Porthos or I will wake you. You deserve it.”  
Athos merely nodded and stretched his legs out. Porthos knocked the back of his hat with a chuckle, covering Athos’ visions and he settled, exhaustion taking him quickly.  
  
A loud cheer awoke Athos from his slumber, causing him to jerk awake so violently, he fell from his chair. Laughter echoed around the room as the Musketeer knocked his hat back so he could look from one person to the other. Treville was sat up on the bed, a soft grin on his face.  
“Athos... Thank you, my boy. You saved my life. I’m told if you had been a minute later, I would have perished.”  
“The premature loss of our Captain would be a severe tragedy. Anyone would have done what I did.”  
“But it was you that did it. If I could, I would promote you.”  
“There is no need. I did what I did out of necessity. Please, instead of wasting your breath saying these things, I would rather you rested. You need it.”  
“So do you, by the looks of you. Go rest, Aramis and Porthos are here if I need them.”  
Athos rose an eyebrow but slowly rose, walking out the room and took the ten minute walk back to his lodgings in five.   
  
“Captain Treville is still wounded, Sire, you cannot expect him to join the barracks again so soon. A rush back may very well cost him his health, or worse, his life.”  
Everyone in the room stared at Athos as he stared at the King, rejecting the man’s statement completely.  
“You know that I agree with you on everything, Sire, but this is the one thing I cannot allow. Whilst Treville is out of action, I act as Musketeer Captain, and as Captain, I refuse to allow him back to duty. I would rather grant his a furlough so he can leave Paris and rest. The sooner he heals, the quicker he can get back to his duties.”  
The King was furious, anyone could see that, but Athos was speaking the truth. No one could expect Treville back to duty at any time soon. Instead of the reaction that Athos was expecting – one of anger – the King nodded.  
“Very well. Grant him a furlough. If he has somewhere to go.”  
“Oh he does, Your Majesty. My old house in the country, and in fact, I would need to accompany him on a gruelling journey. I shouldn’t be in duty myself, due to an injured ankle. We shall both have a furlough and I leave Porthos in charge, with Aramis acting as his Lieutenant.”  
The King cleared his throat, not used to one of the Musketeers speaking so freely to him. He merely nodded and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Athos nodded at Porthos and Aramis before heading straight to the infirmary to help Treville to pack, hoping to get at least a quarter of the way to his house before the night forced them to camp.


End file.
